What I’ve learnt so far

I’ve learnt that,
by all evidence, I am indeed a terrible person
who should be kept away from people, perhaps in some prison
or, what’s the best option, in a mental asylum, so that
I don’t bother people I like and make them freak out and fret.

I’ve learnt that
I most certainly should not be let out into the public
because for me relationships are like a cube by Rubik;
I never know how to interact with others properly
and thus end up disappointing self and them bitterly.

I’ve learnt that
I have a threatening aura like the weird Cthulhu monster
and me falling in love for men equates to a disaster.
That’s why they fear me and run away as soon as I display
even a bit of affection. That I let them be, they pray.

I’ve learnt that
me having romantic feelings is never appropriate,
especially since I always choose the wrong potential mate.
They’re always bad; therefore, I should strive to eliminate them
before they arise and cause more irreparable mayhem.

I’ve learnt that
my love is (in fact, it has always been) extremely toxic
and just showing my interest in them makes men rather sick.
That’s why it’s better that I never ever do it again
lest I do harass and ruin the life of yet another man.

I’ve learnt that
the desirous whims of my heart are never to be trusted,
passionate though they may be, as they are by hormones guided.
And my hormones have always been haywire and defective,
so to rely on them would be simply foolish and naïve.

I’ve learnt that
to hope in a different course is silly and outright stupid
is to ever have had the thought that I could have been suited
(less so destined) for a partnership and family life. Nay,
it’s obvious I wasn’t made to be loved in such a way.

I’ve learnt that
the only reasonable, correct, and safest thing to do,
in the best interest of all people around me, is to
recoil from all social and mainly amorous engagement
and thus save me from further misery and embarrassment.